


I Feel Love

by Polomonkey



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Contains Pictures, Everyone Is Gay, F/F, Fluff, Humor, Light Angst, M/M, Or Ace!, Or Bi/Pan, Pining, Pride, Queer Culture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-03
Updated: 2015-07-03
Packaged: 2018-04-07 12:42:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4263657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Polomonkey/pseuds/Polomonkey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Pride! Arthur wants to enjoy his favourite day of the year. Merlin wants to finally lose his virginity. Morgana wants to tell Gwen how she feels. And Gwen just wants to dance...</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Feel Love

**Author's Note:**

> For my trope bingo square: virgin!fic. I went to Pride the other day and couldn't help but write this fic. Massive thanks to Clea2011 for tutoring me on how to add pictures!
> 
> Warnings for brief references to drug use, past homophobia, anxiety, and everyone being over-emotional because they're young and in love.

  
[ ](http://imgur.com/QhCQGTN)

Merlin hoists his sign slightly higher. They haven’t started marching yet, everyone’s still assembled on Baker Street, talking and laughing. Elena’s a few feet away from him, rainbow streamers decorating her wheelchair. Her girlfriend Mithian’s sat in her lap, chatting a mile a minute. Gwen was here a minute ago but she’s wandered off to hang out near the speakers a few groups ahead, where everyone was dancing to ABBA. Gwaine’s gone to find some leather daddies. Morgana’s not here yet. And Arthur…

Arthur’s stood a few feet away, his arm slung over the shoulder of some guy dressed as Spiderman. He’s wearing a white tank top, a white headband, and a pair of extremely tight shorts. His hair’s all mussed up and wild, and he’s got on eye shadow and mascara and bright red lipstick.

He looks beautiful. And vibrant and glowing and a hundred other adjectives that spring to mind every time Merlin sees him. There’s something so… irrepressible about him. It spills out of every pore. It’s like Arthur is the very embodiment of life, and everything else is just a pale imitation.

Merlin’s been looking at Arthur for a long time because he’s been in love with him since the day they first met. When he was hovering anxiously outside the LGBT society Meet and Greet in Fresher’s Week and Arthur walked straight over to him and introduced himself. Didn’t mind when Merlin stumbled over his words, or clammed up in embarrassment; just talked to him and cajoled him and finally put him at his ease enough that he could come inside and meet the others.

And through that society he’s found all his best friends at university – Gwen and Morgana and Elena and Mith and Gwaine and Elyan and countless others. He was so scared to go to uni, scared of being on his own for the first time. He doesn’t think he could have survived without them.

He’d come to uni hoping to fall in love too, but he’d imagined it would be with someone he actually had a chance with. There was no way anything could ever happen with Arthur. They were too different.

Arthur had sailed out of the closet aged fourteen like it was the easiest thing in the world. Even the wrath of his highly conservative father hadn’t swayed him. And Uther had come around eventually, because he’d had to. Arthur didn’t compromise. He was unashamed and unrepentant about being who he wanted to be, and he didn’t particularly care if anyone didn’t like it.

Merlin envies him for that. So much. He’d been fairly certain his mother would support him no matter what, and yet it still took him until the day before he left home to tell her the truth. He kept it from all his friends at school, and even now when he runs into them back home, he keeps it quiet. He tells himself it just never comes up in conversation, but it’s not true. He makes sure it never comes up because he’s afraid of what they might say to him.

It makes him feel bad inside. He wants to be proud, and he is proud, damn it. He’s never been ashamed of who he is, or wished he was any other way. But he can’t help fearing other people’s reactions.

Coming to Pride is a big deal for him. It was a foregone conclusion that the LGBT soc were all going together. Everyone had been so excited, and he had been too, but he seemed to be the only one with any nerves at all. He could blame it on the fact that it was his first one, but Elena and Leon and Percy had never been to Pride before either and they were all thrilled.

What’s wrong with him?

Sometimes it seems so easy, when he’s sat in the library surrounded by books on queer theory and LGBT history and shivers of excitement are going down his spine as he learns about people like him, doing amazing things and living amazing lives. Just like when he first read Maurice by E.M. Forster or At Swim Two Boys by Jamie O’Neill, and instantly felt a sense of connection and belonging.

But other times, times like this when he’s stood in a huge crowd of people, all seemingly delighted to be here, he feels alone.

That’s why he made a decision the night before. Perhaps the thing that’s getting in his way, the reason he can’t shake his nerves off, is the fact that he’s never done anything with a boy before. Not so much as a kiss. If he finally slept with another guy, then surely all these feelings of inadequacy would vanish. He would feel queer enough, good enough. He’d feel like he had a right to be part of this community.

One half of him knows it’s bullshit. That the act of sex is nothing to do with sexuality, that identity isn’t predicated on some weird notion of ‘proof’. But he’s sick of listening to that half. That half of him is the half that nods and smiles at his old school friends when they tell him he needs to find a nice girl for himself. That half is the half that’s making him stand on his own fiddling with a sign right now, when everyone around him is having the time of their lives.

He’s going to lose his virginity today. There are literally thousands of boys who like boys here; surely he can find one to take him home. And then he can finally stop feeling like a fraud.

He wishes it could be Arthur, though. It can’t be, because Arthur is brave and beautiful and can have any guy he wants, so why would he choose someone like Merlin? He’s heard Arthur talk about his exploits in bed before, he’s gotten up to things Merlin couldn’t even dream of. He has nothing to offer on that front. Arthur would be bored within seconds.

The Arthurs of this world are not made for people like Merlin. He has to make his peace with that. He’ll dedicate the day to finding a guy more on his level. Hopefully someone kind enough to not make him feel any more of an oddity than he already does.

Merlin looks over to where Arthur’s posing for a photo with the Spiderman boy, planting a kiss on his cheek.

He tries not to let it hurt.

  
[ ](http://imgur.com/DNGUazm)

Morgana’s on a mission. And Pride’s the day to do it. It’s now or never.

She makes this decision while she’s getting dressed in the morning, choosing between a white top with red flowers on the shoulder or a bright green halter neck. She’s reaching for the halter neck and idly thinking about how good it would look on Gwen, because honestly Gwen can rock most colours, but green and yellow do something especially magical for her, although she’s lovely in purple too, and when she wears that little blue dress with the white lacy hem and oh God…

Morgana’s in love with her. She’s in love with Gwen and she never even realised.

She has to sit down for a bit, after that. It’s not like she didn’t know she had feelings for Gwen, they’ve been sleeping together on and off for the past year after all. But she thought it was casual, thought it wasn’t serious. Gwen was her best friend in the world, the one who knew all her secrets, who was always there for her; the only person to make her laugh with that ugly snort she kept hidden from everyone else. Hooking up had been like the icing on the cake. A logical extension of their perfect friendship. Not a big deal.

Except now it was a big deal, it was a huge fucking deal, because Morgana loves her. And she suddenly can’t stand the thought of letting another day pass without letting Gwen know.

She might be setting herself up for rejection. Gwen had never said she wanted anything more than what they had. But Morgana’s a Pendragon and a Le Fay, and neither of those families bred cowards. She’s going for it, even if it all blows up in her face. Nothing ventured, nothing gained.

Mind made up, Morgana pulls on the white top and leaves the house. Today’s the day.

When she gets to Baker Street, she sees Merlin first. She waves but he doesn’t see her – he’s too busy struggling with his hand painted sign. His tongue is sticking out his mouth in concentration and she smiles to see it. Merlin’s such a sweetheart. So sincere and polite. She worries about him sometimes. The world chews people like Merlin up, and spits them out.

But not today. Hopefully this is the one day he can relax a little and just enjoy himself.

She makes a mental note to check on him later and then turns to see if she can spot Gwen. But she only sees Arthur, hanging out with a group of girls in Rio Carnival style outfits. He’s in some ridiculous get up as usual – any excuse to wear short shorts and make-up. At least he’s buying his own now instead of stealing hers; although she still remembers fondly the day he came into her bedroom aged fifteen and asked for advice on how to put on eyeliner.

She makes fun of him but deep down she loves how excited he gets about stuff like this. Growing up with Uther as a father hadn’t exactly been easy on either of them, and Arthur had always been the more sensitive one. The way he tells his coming out story now, it’s like he sashayed into Uther’s study aged fourteen and unveiled a banner saying ‘I’m here, I’m queer, get over it’. When in reality Morgana was up all night stroking Arthur’s hair while he cried into her lap; after Uther had called him a degenerate and a disgrace.

Uther had come around, eventually, and she knows their father was sorry later for how he’d reacted. But it had been down to her in those difficult first months to make sure Arthur never felt bad about who he was. She’d taken him to his first Pride that year, and they’d stood in the crowd and cheered everyone on. She never forgot the way Arthur’s eyes grew wider and wider as all the smiling people passed by, like he was witnessing something magical.

Compared to all that, her coming out had been easy. Because she’d basically never done it. She didn’t really care what Uther or anyone else thought of her, and when she started seeing her first girlfriend Vivian, she simply brought her round to the house one day and ignored all of Uther’s pointed looks and unsubtle questions. She didn’t have any responsibility to come out to anyone; she wasn’t offering any explanations as to how she wanted to live her life.

Morgana still doesn’t care what anyone thinks of her, with one notable exception. She’s pretty sure she’d move to earth just to make Gwen smile.

She wanders over to Arthur and ruffles his hair and he mock-protests.

“Happy Pride, little bro. See you went for a nice restrained look.”

“You should see Leon. He’s dressed like he’s going to the world’s most boring funeral.”

They had all tried to encourage Leon to loosen up his strict sartorial code for Pride, but the man was a tough nut to crack.

“He’ll be wearing less later, if Elyan has anything to do with it,” she points out and Arthur smirks in agreement. Everyone knew that Leon was completely implacable up to a point, and then Elyan made a suggestion and he melted like soft serve ice cream.

“They need to get it together already,” Arthur says and then taps her arm. “Speaking of people who need to get it together…”

“I know,” Morgana says, cutting him off. “I’m doing it today.”

“Doing what?”

“Telling Gwen that I want to be… more than what we are.”

Arthur whoops.

“God, finally! Because you know Lance has been sniffing around her, and of course he’s a lovely guy, but the two of you make so much more sense.”

“Lance?” Morgana says, suddenly feeling a bit sick. Lance lived with Arthur and Elyan off campus; he was a sweet, thoughtful History student with an attractively unassuming way about him. Morgana didn’t go for guys but even she had to admit he was a bit of a catch.

Gwen did go for guys. Is she already too late? Has Lance actually had the guts to ask Gwen out when Morgana never did?

“Is he here today?” she asks frantically.

“I think so, he said he’d come. Morgs, you’re not seriously worried about Lance are you? Anyone with half a brain can see you and Gwen are made for each other.”

“But I didn’t tell her yet,” she says, anxiety settling like a stone in her stomach.

“So go tell her now! She’s up near the speakers. Follow the sound of Katy Perry; who by the way is an awful LBGT role model, but whatever.”

Morgana nods and sets off walking. It’s too crowded to see very far ahead of her, and even when she arrives at the speakers, the crowd is thick.

Then she sees a girl dancing by herself in the centre, eyes closed, lost in the music.

Gwen’s wearing a little blue dress, and a flower crown, and a rainbow lei around her neck. She’s dancing like she always dances – as though the whole world has ceased to exist, and it’s just her and the rhythm. It takes Morgana’s breath away every time, leaves her speechless and awed; like one always feels in the presence of true brilliance. Sometimes she thinks Gwen was made on another planet, that no-one from Earth could be so beautiful, be so kind and good and… irresistible.

She watches for a while, lost in the moment. A Donna Summer song is playing – I Feel Love – and the music wraps itself around her, pulses inside her. Morgana feels tingly and nervy and excited all at once. Because she’s in love and she’s never felt like this before. And she wants – no, she _needs_ – Gwen to know right now. She can’t wait a second longer.

And then Lance emerges from the crowd to put his arms around Gwen’s waist and the bottom drops out of Morgana’s world.

  
[ ](http://imgur.com/KMsFxZP)

Gwen doesn’t drink. She doesn’t need to. Every day is like a gift to her, every day that she’s healthy and working and surrounded by her friends and family. Sometimes she feels so lucky that she can’t breathe with it all, and the only time she gets down is when she remembers how fragile happiness is. How it could slip away from her at any moment.

She was anxious when she was younger. She used to lie awake at night and think of all the things that could go wrong, all the ways the people she loved could be taken from her. Her stomach hurt all the time, and she was off school a lot. And then one day her stomach hurt even more than usual and she didn’t tell anyone because she was scared they were sick of hearing about her anxiety. She bore it all day and it wasn’t until her dad found her throwing up in the middle of the night that she admitted how much pain she was in. He took her straight to hospital and the doctor had barely examined her before she was being sped off to the operating theatre for an emergency appendectomy.

When she woke up afterwards, her friendly young doctor gently told her to make a fuss a bit sooner next time. That pretending nothing was wrong had very nearly cost Gwen her life.

After that, Gwen resolves to make herself happy. She can’t eliminate the anxiety all together, but she does her best to manage it. She tries to remind herself of how good life can be, of all the people she can turn to when things get too much. She starts every day by thinking of her dad and Elyan and all her friends, and how grateful she is to have them around.

And Morgana, of course.

Elyan told her recently that there’s this specific look she gets whenever anyone mentions Morgana’s name; a sort of half smile that lifts the corner of her mouth. She never realised but he’s right. Even in passing, any reference to Morgana is enough to make her feel shy, and happy. She can’t help but react.

It’s two years and four months since they first met, and one year and three weeks since they first kissed, and eleven months and five days since they first had sex, and Gwen knows all this because she keeps a diary of things that make her feel good so she never forgets them. And when she opens it up nowadays, it’s full of Morgana.

Her life is full of Morgana and she wouldn’t have it any other way.

And yet she doesn’t know if Morgana’s life is full of her. If this thing between them is just something to pass the time, before Morgana moves on to pastures new.

She doesn’t like to think that. She likes to think Morgana cares about her as much as she cares about Morgana. But that little anxious voice from her childhood that never quite went away whispers that she can’t hold onto Morgana for much longer. That Morgana’s something wild and free, and she won’t stay earthbound with Gwen. The very part of her that Gwen loves so much – the tempestuous, impulsiveness that makes every day with Morgana an adventure – is also the part that won’t be tied down to anyone.

But Gwen’s learned how to live in the moment, and it’s been a hard won battle. She’ll take all that Morgana can give her, and if she ends up alone, she’ll dry her eyes somehow.

With that in mind, she wants to spend Pride dancing. She’s never more herself than when she’s lost in music, and she needs that today. So she kisses Merlin on the cheek and leaves him to fuss over the flags, tips Elyan an ostentatious wink as he gradually edges closer to Leon, and throws a handful of rainbow confetti over Arthur on her way to the speakers up ahead.

They’re playing Groove Is In The Heart and the crowd opens up to swallow her as she starts to rock her body from side to side. Some girl puts a lei round her neck and plants a kiss on her cheek, and she smiles, closing her eyes. She goes somewhere else when she feels like this; somewhere peaceful and carefree. Gwen lets the beat hypnotise her, turns her face up towards the sun and sways in the crush of people.

Then she feels arms wrap around her waist and she thinks _Morgana_.

But it’s not Morgana at all, it’s Lance. Sweet Lance with his puppy dog eyes and his soulful sincerity. He’s been pursuing her recently and she didn’t need Elyan to point it out. Her brother thinks she’s oblivious to things like that, but she never is. She knows that Lance likes her, knows he wants to be with her. She also knows that he’s kind and clever and handsome and she could probably learn to love him.

But she doesn’t want to learn to love anyone. She wants the love that’s already come to her naturally. And that love, for better or worse, belongs to Morgana.

“Hi Lance,” she says and even though his arms are a comforting, warm weight around her, she needs them gone because it isn’t fair to lead him on. He deserves more than that.

“I’ve been looking for you,” he says. “I wanted to- oh, hey Morgana.”

And Gwen turns and his arms are still around her and Morgana’s standing there looking like she’s about to break.

Then she starts to walk away.

Gwen wriggles out of Lance’s grip immediately, and goes after her. She can apologise to him later, this is more important.

Morgana walks fast when she wants to and Gwen ends up chasing her through at least ten different parade groups. But then she pauses at the street corner and wipes at her eyes and Gwen’s heart jolts as she runs over to her.

“Gana! Wait!”

Morgana turns, slowly. With tears sliding down her face she looks much younger than she is. And Gwen’s powerfully reminded of the other side of Morgana, the side that isn’t devil may care and unrestricted. The side that gets wounded easily, and heals slowly. The girl underneath all the bravado, the girl who spent her childhood looking after Arthur and protecting him from Uther and sharpening her edges so that no-one could jab at her. The parts of Morgana that are kept so well hidden sometimes Gwen wonders if she’s the only one who ever sees them.

She grabs hold of Morgana’s wrist.

“What you just saw… I don’t… it’s not…”

Words are jumbling out too fast and she forces herself to slow down, to say exactly what she means.

“I don’t want Lance. I want you. I want you properly. Exclusively. All of you.”

Morgana’s shaking her head, tears still falling unchecked.

“You have to be sure, Gwen. Don’t… You have to be sure,” she croaks out and Gwen feels tears prick at her own eyes.

“I have to be sure? What about you?! You never told me that… you never said you wanted anything more…”

“I know,” Morgana says. “I know. I’m sorry. I’ll say it now. I’m pretty sure I love you.”

“Pretty sure?” Gwen says, feeling one fat tear roll down her face, because pretty sure is not enough…

“Definitely sure,” Morgana says, and she steps forward to wipe Gwen’s tears away. “One hundred percent sure. I love you.”

Then she says it again, and again.

“I love you, I love you. Please have me. Please love me back.”

“Yes,” Gwen says and she’s laughing and crying and she feels like she might take off from the ground because her heart’s so full. “Yes. I’ll love you back.”

They kiss for so long that the parade finally starts moving around them. Then they walk hand in hand, not caring that they’re in completely the wrong place. Not even looking at the crowds around them. Like they’re the only two people there.

  
[](http://imgur.com/as17l45)

Arthur’s drunk or maybe he’s high from the pill some girl with a Mohican slipped him, or maybe he’s just giddy with the thrill of it all, but he feels like he’s floating. There are so many people cheering from the sides, so many smiling faces and bright colours. The sun’s beating down, there’s music in the air, he’s in the middle of a big happy crush of people and noise and…

The world suddenly comes into focus. He’s found Merlin.

Merlin. Merlin in his little purple t-shirt and the tiny rainbow painted on his cheek. Merlin with the sign he spent all night making, the sign that says ‘Say No to Pink Capitalism’. Merlin who cares so passionately about all this stuff, who thinks so deeply about everything. Pretty Merlin with his shy smiles and his awkward asides and the way he blushes whenever Arthur touches him.

Arthur wants him so badly. But he can’t have him. Merlin’s a good boy, a serious boy. Someone going places in life. He doesn’t do drugs, he only drinks on weekends, and he won’t go out on a night until all his coursework is done. Whereas Arthur’s a party boy. He’s bad at being serious and he’s bad at being a boyfriend. As far as he knows Merlin’s never dated anyone before, and Arthur can’t take that first relationship away from him. Merlin deserves someone reliable, someone more sensible than Arthur.

Oh but he’s so pretty though. Arthur can’t help but slip in beside him, press a kiss to his cheek that leaves a bright red lipstick mark in its wake.

“Arthur!” Merlin says and he’s looks pleased and hopeful and sad, and Arthur can’t quite figure all that out, he’s too spaced to make sense of it.

“Where is everyone?”

“Elena’s just back there with Elyan and Leon. Mith’s gone off to walk with AVEN. Gwaine’s with the Anal Angels, of course. Morgana’s still AWOL. And I haven’t seen Gwen for ages but I’m pretty sure she’s dancing somewhere.”

“And you’re here,” Arthur says happily.

“And I’m here.”

Merlin doesn’t sound quite so happy about it though.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Merlin says, a little too quickly.

Arthur doesn’t want to push. He looks up at the sky instead, at the sun shining down on them, like even the weather’s celebrating.

It’s so hot. Arthur peels off his top then sees some guys cheering him on in the crowd. He grins and bounces over to them, presenting his top to the cute little redhead with a wink. Then he runs back to Merlin’s side.

“Such an exhibitionist,” Merlin says, but his tone is fond.

“There’s plenty of soc t-shirts knocking around, I’ll put one on later.”

Arthur sneaks a hand around Merlin’s waist.

“Tell me about this sign then.”

Merlin starts to talk and Arthur forgets to listen for a few moments, fascinated by the movement of Merlin’s mouth, the redness of his lips. Whatever pill he’s taken, it’s making everything seem more intense somehow.

He zones back in, forcing himself to concentrate.

“Like, we can’t just allow ourselves to be subsumed into the middle classes. All this ‘pink pound’ stuff is just an attempt to smother radicalism in capitalist ideals. We need to be a movement agitating for change in all areas, not just settling for the fact that Western gays can buy a nice dishwasher now.”

Merlin sounds so earnest, and Arthur loves how committed he is. There’s something about the way he looks when he talks like this, like he’s illuminated from within. It’s intoxicating.

They chat a bit more about pink capitalism, and then Ireland and SCOTUS and Mozambique; because Arthur’s not only a party animal and he does pay attention to some other stuff that’s going on. But he’s not thinking of queer politics when he suddenly says:

“You remember that night we got drunk at Percy’s? And sat out on the balcony? And you told me you’d never kissed a guy?”

Merlin turns pink.

“Yes,” he mumbles, looking out at the crowd as they march.

“Is that still true?”

If possible, Merlin turns pinker.

“Yes,” he says again, in a very small voice. “But not… not after tonight, hopefully.”

“What’s tonight?” Arthur says, suddenly feeling less hazy.

“I thought I would… there’s a lot of guys here and… maybe I might go home with one. Tonight. And… sleep with them.”

Arthur has to strain to hear Merlin by the end of the sentence but he gets the message and there’s a sinking feeling in his stomach. If it was anyone other than Merlin asking, he’d pass them a condom and tell them to have an awesome time. But it’s not anyone else. It’s Merlin and some selfish part of him doesn’t want to imagine him with anyone else.

It’s not entirely selfish. He might be wrong but Merlin doesn’t really strike him as the casual sex type. He’d talked to Arthur before about wanting an emotional connection, about building a meaningful relationship with someone he loved. The way Merlin looks right now, biting his lip and not meeting Arthur’s eyes, he doesn’t seem to be very excited about the prospect of his impending one night stand.

Arthur tries to channel the spirit of Gwen, who always seems to know what to say in tricky situations.

“Are you sure that’s what you want?”

“Of course,” Merlin says and he sounds defensive. “I’m gay, aren’t I? Of course I want to sleep with a guy.”

“No-one’s denying that you’re gay, Merlin,” Arthur say, confused. “That’s not under suspicion.”

“It is though!” Merlin suddenly bursts out. “It’s alright for you! You fit in absolutely everywhere. And on Pride you’re like the unofficial Mayor of Gaytown and no-one would ever question the fact that you belong here. I don’t… I’m not like you… I’m not outgoing and I find it hard to… to talk to guys and…”

Merlin trails off helplessly, and drops the sign to let it dangle from his hand.

“If I just sleep with one, maybe I’ll feel like I belong too.”

A lot of things slot into place at that moment. Arthur should have known there was something more behind Merlin’s recent reluctance about going to Pride. That Merlin thought he was falling short in some crucial way is completely in character for him, and it makes Arthur so sad.

“You already belong,” he says softly. “You don’t need to prove yourself. You have as much of a right to be here as anyone else.”

Merlin’s head droops.

“It doesn’t always feel like that,” he admits.

“Well I’m telling you that you do. It’s an official decree, straight from the Mayor of Gaytown.”

“Oh God, I’m not living that one down am I?” Merlin groans.

“I mean, I’m gonna get it tattooed on my body, but other than that…”

Merlin shoves at him and for a minute he looks like he’s cheered up. Then his smile fades.

“I’d still like to lose my virginity today though. Or at least kiss someone.”

“Are you really gonna waste your first kiss on some random guy?”

“Arthur, your first kiss was with a window cleaner,” Merlin points out.

“How dare you talk about Trevor like that?” Arthur says and then they’re both helplessly giggling, until Merlin nearly whacks the guy in front of them with his sign.

When they finally quieten down, Merlin says:

“Of course I’d like it to be someone I actually cared about. But it hasn’t happened yet, and I’m just…”

“You care about me, don’t you?” Arthur says before he can stop himself.

Merlin gives him a sidelong glance.

“Yeah. What are you-”

“Kiss me,” Arthur says, forgetting that he vowed never to do this. “And then you know it’ll be with someone who cares about you too.”

“You-you care about me?” Merlin looks so vulnerable and hopeful that the last of Arthur’s long held principles fly out the window.

“Like you wouldn’t believe,” he breathes, and then he stops Merlin dead and kisses him. In front of thousands of cheering people, in the middle of London, on a day when it feels like the whole country’s come together to celebrate their right to be in love.

As first kisses go, it might be hard to top. When they finally break apart, Merlin looks dazed.

“Keep walking,” Arthur says, leading him along.

“That was… that was…”

“Worth waiting for?” Arthur says, and is rewarded with a smile that splits Merlin’s face.

“Yes. Definitely.”

Arthur looks over at him and is struck by a sudden rush of love and understanding.

“You don’t like Pride much, do you?” he murmurs and Merlin looks panicked.

“I don’t not like it! It’s just, all these crowds and noise and I just… it’s a bit…”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Arthur says gently, stroking Merlin’s arm. “No-one’s gonna take away your homo card just because Pride’s not your vibe.”

“Oh good, because I’d like to hang on to my homo card. I just got it laminated,” Merlin deadpans but he seems slightly reassured.

Arthur grins.

“Well since you have solid proof and all, maybe I could take you out sometime. Give that new card of yours a test drive.”

“Okay,” Merlin says, flushed with pleasure. “I’d like that.”

Then he clears his throat determinedly.

“And after you take me out… you’ll sleep with me?” Merlin says, looking at him from beneath his lashes.

Arthur starts to say yes, of course he will; he’s wanted to since he first laid eyes on Merlin, but then he stops and thinks.

“No,” he says and Merlin looks devastated.

“You don’t… you don’t want to?”

“Of course I want to,” Arthur says firmly. “But I think maybe you… aren’t quite ready yet.”

Merlin looks down at the ground.

“I want to be ready,” he says quietly. “But…”

Arthur drops a kiss to the top of his head.

“So we’ll wait till you are. It’s no big deal.”

“You don’t mind?”

“No,” Arthur says.

And then words stop being enough so he kisses him again.

They lose track of time, and Arthur feels like he doesn’t zone back in until Morgana and Gwen appear beside them, almost at the end of the parade route.

They’re holding hands and Morgana winks at him. Just from that wink he can tell that she’s finally done what she said she was going to. From the look on Gwen’s face, it went down well. And the fact that Merlin’s tucked into his side earns him a beaming smile from both girls.

He’s suddenly gripped by happiness. He’s here with his favourite people on his favourite day of the year, and everyone’s cheering. He’s filled with love for all of them.

“What now?” he says.

“Gwaine got us invited to some drag queen’s house party in Angel, he just texted me the address,” Morgana says, waving her phone.

“Merlin, you up for it?”

“Yeah, definitely,” Merlin says, and he actually sounds excited this time.

So they all fight their way through the crowds to the tube, and giggle their way through the train ride. A little girl is fascinated by Gwen’s bracelets, and they end up giving her half the bands and sweets and whistles they’ve collected that day while her dad looks indulgently on.

The party is fun, especially when they stumble into the basement and find a big box of fancy dress costumes and silly hats. They take countless pictures, swapping clothes and posing until they’re all hysterical with laughter. Then at about four am Gwen decides to call it a night, reminding them she has to be up for Black Pride the next day. Morgana moans and groans but Arthur suspects she’s going to be getting up early right alongside Gwen. If he knows his sister, he’s sure she won’t let Gwen slip through her fingers again.

They get on separate night buses, the girls headed back to Gwen’s, and Merlin shyly agreeing to come and spend the night at Arthur’s. Merlin falls asleep on the bus, his head resting on Arthur’s shoulder. Arthur almost doesn’t want to wake him up when they reach his stop; he looks so sweet and peaceful.

Maybe Merlin always looks like that when he sleeps. Arthur gets the chance to find out now. There’s a whole lifetime of waking up next to each other ahead of them.

There’s a whole lot of things ahead of them.

Arthur can’t wait.

  
[ ](http://imgur.com/ftx6xta)

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked it! I just got the images off Google, if anyone owns them let me know and I'll take them down/credit you.


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